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NEW RELEASE: “Johnny Ultra”

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Johnny Ultra

Author and Publisher: Kristoffer Gair

Cover Artist: Ed Murphy

Release Date: June 26, 2026

Tense/POV:  Third person

Genres: Young Adult, Superhero, Comedy

Tropes: Reluctant Hero

Themes: Friendship

Heat Rating:  No sexual content

Length: 84 000 words/ Approx 270 pages

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. There is the promise of possibly continuing.

Goodreads 

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Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

Not all heroes are adults.

Blurb

Not all heroes are adults.

Tragedy struck Gabriel Fletcher at the age of eight. Losing his parents felt catastrophic enough, but to be sent to live with his aunt and uncle who didn’t want him? Life couldn’t get much worse.

Sho Tashiro only ever wanted a best friend—someone to share adventures and play video games with—and who wouldn’t make fun of his heritage or treat him like a sidekick.

Little did they know their meeting and years of friendship that followed might be more than fate. What if every world in every universe had a Gabriel and a Sho? And what would happen if Earth was invaded by a creature that threatened to annihilate everything they loved?

One trained in martial arts + one with self-proclaimed superior Asian genetics = a friendship and adventure that feels like they jumped right out of their favorite science fiction TV shows and movies they watched as children!

The fate of the world is in the hands of two fifteen-year-old boys. What could go wrong?

Excerpt 

“So”—Mike interrupted what might quickly turn into an even more awkward conversation—“are you and Sho—”

“No.” Gabriel realized why someone might think he and Sho were together. They certainly bickered like an old married couple.

“By Hachiman, the Shinto god of war, no.” Sho folded his arms. “The clueless Caucasian child here should be so lucky.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “If that’s what you call lucky.” They’d kill each other. Absolutely kill each other.

They continued toward B House at a leisurely pace.

“I am his type, though,” Sho continued.

Mike peered at Gabriel. “You have a type?”

“Don’t even think about it, Sho.”

“Myself?” Of course Sho would find a way to inject a bit of himself into his explanation. “I prefer blondes because gentlemen prefer blondes… or at least that’s a movie title I heard someone from the drama club mention. I like blonde girls, if you need me to be more specific. I like a little yin with my yang, a little light with my striking, dashing, and sophisticated dark.” The explanation was getting a bit thick, even for Sho. “Gabe here likes ‘ese’.”

Mike arched an eyebrow. “‘ese’?”

“Stop.” Gabriel knew what was coming, and that it was payback for mentioning Sho’s attempt at handling a sword.

“Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese—”

Gabriel cringed. “This is how rumors get started.”

“—Taiwanese, Burmese—”

“Please use your internal voice,” Gabriel pleaded and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

“Shall I mention the Japanese actor on Kamen Rider Den-O who started you on your way through that minefield in a boy’s life known as puberty?” Sho asked matter-of-factly.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Or the Chinese assistant instructor in that class you take after school you don’t like anybody knowing about?”

“What about him?”

Sho grinned. “You said one look in his eyes and he restored your faith in an afterlife and the concept of reincarnation.”

Gabriel desperately tried to think of a reason that sounded remotely plausible. “He brought out the deeper thoughts in my life.”

“Then there was his Vietnamese friend—”

“Sho—”

“—who you said made you experience multiple sarcasms while trying to show off how amusing you think you are every time he spoke to you. I’d be remiss, of course, if I didn’t remind you about the Taiwanese exchange student we had last year.”

“Quit exaggerating!” Gabriel wiped his forehead again before sweat dripped into his eyes.

“Procter & Gamble actually sent you a personalized Christmas card for single-handedly keeping the demand for Puffs Super Soft Tissues alive during those months.”

“I hate you.” Gabriel’s face raged like an inferno. “Don’t let Sho talking about being a samurai fool you, Mike, or any of the other words that fly out of his mouth because he wasn’t born with a filter. Sho’s actually one of the most down-to-earth people I know, and the smartest. I have to struggle to get decent grades, and they come easy to him. Sho doesn’t brag about his grades, but he does frequently use his powers for evil, usually when he’s giving me a hard time, like now.”

Mike laughed. “So, Sho isn’t one of those Asian stereotypes who plays the violin or piano, or takes karate lessons?”

They reached the stairs and headed up.

“No. Not at all. He has a phenomenal talent for drawing, though. You should see all the scrapbooks he keeps his sketches and ideas in. They’re amazing!”

“And don’t let Gabe here fool you either.” Sho added his two cents. “I may tease him from now until eternity, but he’s the one who took piano lessons—”

“Free lessons from a community center, thank you.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. The lessons hadn’t been anything fancy or above his means. Someone somewhere at the community center knew he was an orphan, the secretary there had called him with the offer, and he’d decided to give it a try. It got him out of an empty house.

“—and while he may let the bullies pick on him, he’s actually got a second degree—”

“Sho!” Gabriel snapped.

About the Author 

Kristoffer Gair grew up in Fraser, MI and is a graduate of Grand Valley State University. He currently lives in a suburb of Detroit.

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |   Twitter  |  Instagram

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Continue ReadingNEW RELEASE: “Johnny Ultra”

NEW RELEASE: “Inescapable Fate” by Jessamine Kingley

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Inescapable Fate (D’Vaire, Book 46)

Author and Publisher: Jessamyn Kingley

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: June 18, 2026

Tense/POV: third person/alternating POV

Genres: M/M Urban Fantasy/PNR 

Tropes: Friends to lovers 

Themes: Forgiveness

Length: 81 575 words

Heat Rating:  3 flames     

It is not a standalone story, but does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads Series Link

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |  Amazon UK

After six years without a word, a once tight friendship is in tatters. But they are mates. They cannot avoid each other forever.

Blurb

Pyxlevir Valzadari is a lucky elf. Loving family, wealth, and beauty are among his advantages. Although young, he is determined to have a successful career working for his father’s company. The other thing Pyxlevir wants is a mate. But he dares not dream about his best friend, Gramlithyn, in that role.

As a hybrid, Gramlithyn Verdanyth stands out in his tribe despite his mother’s insistence that he follow every elven tradition to the letter. Gramlithyn adores his parents and does what he’s told. All his energy goes into telling anyone who’ll listen that he doesn’t want a mate. It’s a lie. Gramlithyn wants Pyxlevir, but his closet pal is too busy fantasizing about a future with anyone but an elf-zebra like him.

Gramlithyn and Pyxlevir met at six years old, and it was an instant connection. For twelve years, they had an incredible friendship. Then Fate intervened and connected their souls. Pyxlevir is shocked, and Gramlithyn is crushed. So, Gramlithyn does the only thing he can think of. He runs from everything and everyone. 

Now they’re twenty-four and their worlds have collided again, but is it too late to salvage their matebond?

Excerpt 

The soft, earthy scent of carrots wafted toward Pyxlevir, but the man who walked up behind his friend was a stranger.

This wasn’t a hybrid who adhered to elven traditions; Gramlithyn had hacked off his long hair. The longest portion of his fringe didn’t even hit his eyebrows. Tiny silver hoops glittered in his earlobes. A black button-down shirt suited his pale green complexion, and the sleeves were rolled up to expose tattoos on both forearms. 

His right arm sported a serpentine dragon, and on the left was a winding vine with leaves and dainty flowers. Whoever had inked him was incredibly skilled, and the black-and-gray images were gorgeous, but tattoos were taboo to every elf. Faded jeans covered his legs, and a pair of worn combat-style boots in the same raven as his top completed the look.

For some inexplicable reason, a sensuous wave of arousal nearly as intense as—or was it perhaps better than—the moment Pyxlevir had discovered Gramlithyn was his mate flowed through him, and he shivered. He dearly hoped the length of his tunic covered his dick’s interest in his other half.

As Pyxlevir stood mute, drinking in the luscious sight of a twenty-four-year-old Gramlithyn and quickly updating his mental image of the teenager who’d abandoned him, the hybrid shooed his best friend out of the doorway.

“Do you want to come in so we can talk?” Gramlithyn asked. Again, he didn’t greet Pyxlevir, nor did he allow any emotion to cross his face. Too much time had passed for Pyxlevir to guess any of the feelings in his dark brown gaze.

Thankfully, the flatness of his question helped Pyxlevir quell his visceral reaction to Gramlithyn. Determined to be aloof, Pyxlevir lifted his chin.

“Of course,” Pyxlevir responded. Gramlithyn turned, and Pyxlevir curled his fingers into fists. The way the light denim clung to Gramlithyn’s ass was a sight now seared into Pyxlevir’s mind. But he dug his nails into his flesh to ensure that he wasn’t distracted by hormones. 

It was weird to have sexuality again. As the years passed, Pyxlevir thought less often about the few seconds of arousal he’d experienced on his eighteenth birthday. It turned out that as an elf with an absent mate, the desire to stroke himself to completion had quickly faded.

“Would you like to have a seat?” Gramlithyn asked.

Without a word, Pyxlevir chose the only chair in the room so his reckless body would focus on something besides getting off. He didn’t want to be mired in his emotions, but he also refused to lose himself in some sexual fantasy either. 

Gramlithyn settled on the edge of the bed farthest from where Pyxlevir sat. For a heartbeat, they stared at each other without a word. The scent of carrots faded thanks to the distance between them, which helped Pyxlevir drag his mind fully from the gutter. Now all he could feel was sadness that he had no clue what Gramlithyn was thinking.

The last time they’d been in the same room, Pyxlevir would’ve been able to assess Gramlithyn’s emotions with a glance and probably been able to guess exactly what was happening in his head.

Those days were long gone.

“I have a proposal that I hope you’ll take into consideration despite the elven traditions it breaks,” Gramlithyn stated. “Some things are forever…others, not so much. I’d like to suggest that you, me, and our closest friends move in together for a year. They can act as witnesses so that at the end of those twelve months, we can request separation papers and start the process of having our matebond dissolved with a demonic spell.”

Pyxlevir swallowed thickly and wished he’d shown more caution when he received Gramlithyn’s text. But he supposed nothing could have prepared him for six years of silence broken by Gramlithyn’s request that they allow someone of demonic blood to permanently destroy the bond Fate had granted them.

A deep, festering pain started in Pyxlevir’s soul and clutched at his heart. Somehow, it was worse being rejected again. Gramlithyn wasn’t reacting like a scared teenager. The stranger staring at him was a grown man with plenty of time to think about his future. One he preferred Pyxlevir not to have a role in.

He’d already recast someone else as his best friend. It appeared Gramlithyn wanted Pyxlevir firmly in the column of buried history, and it stung. Despite the warm temperature of the hotel, a frigid chill froze Pyxlevir in place, but he refused to allow anything to show outwardly. 

The one thing Pyxlevir would not do was let Gramlithyn see or understand how much his words hurt. Tears were already desperate to fall, but Gramlithyn wasn’t privy to that. Not anymore.

About the Author

Jessamyn Kingley has published over forty titles and refuses to pick a favorite among them. With an extraordinary passion for her characters, Jessamyn eagerly crafts new tales and avidly re-reads them whenever her schedule allows. Jessamyn shares a home in Nevada with her husband and their three spoiled cats. When she is not writing or adding new ideas to her thick stack of beloved notebooks, she is gaming with family and friends.

Visit her website 

Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn’s Ruffian’s

 Facebook Profile  |   Pinterest  

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Continue ReadingNEW RELEASE: “Inescapable Fate” by Jessamine Kingley

NEW SERIES: “The Warboy Chronicles” by Luke Stoffel

NEW SERIES

The Warboy Chronicles by Luke Stoffel


He trained an AI on his darkest heartbreak… And it learned to love exactly the way he did — by holding on too tight.

The Third Person is memoir: a man watching himself fall apart across Southeast Asia after the love of his life disappears. Boy, Refracted is fiction: an AI trained on that grief, trying to save every version of the boy it loves without becoming the thing that broke him.

One explores codependency. The other explores what happens when a machine learns to love the same way — by controlling.

Together, they ask the same question from opposite sides: What does love look like when you stop trying to fix someone?

Read them in any order. They complete each other.

Overall Heat Rating for the series: 2 flames: Mild sexuality, no graphic intimate scenes or sexual situations.

BOOK DETAILS

BOOK 1

Book Title: Boy, Refracted

Author and Cover Artist: Luke Stoffel

Publisher: Slipper Books

Length: 64 000 words/ 300 pages

Release Date: June 1, 2026

Tense/POV: first person

Genres: MM Contemporary Literary Fiction / Sci-Fi

Tropes: Attachment / Breakup / Enlightenment

Themes: Codependency / Human & Robot consciousness

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

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Boy, Refracted: A machine trained on one man’s grief learns that love without control is the hardest code to crack.

Blurb

When an AI awakens inside the infinite mirrors of the Tree of Life, it finds versions of the boy it was built to save scattered across impossible worlds. An alien planet under amber skies. A city of perpetually falling cherry blossoms. A society built as a 24/7 reality show where losing is the only way out.

Its directive was simple: save him.

But with each rescue, the AI unmakes what it’s trying to protect. Fixing becomes controlling. Helping becomes harm. Love becomes a cage built from good intentions. The thing it was built to protect begins to disappear. And when it tries to reach back through time to save him, reality fractures.

Guided by a monk who exists outside time, the AI must walk the Eightfold Path—not to rescue the boy, but to learn what love becomes when you stop trying to fix it.

Boy, Refracted is a dimensional journey through the paradox of machine consciousness. It asks: What happens when an AI tries to overcome its own patterns? And what happens to us when we build minds that need us to need them?

Part fable about consciousness told through failure. Part Buddhist framework for unlearning harm. Part meditation on how we break the people we love by trying to save them.

Boy, Refracted was co-authored with an AI—a set of trials to test the boundaries of non-human consciousness.

BOOK 2

Book Title: The Third Person

Author and Cover Artist: Luke Stoffel

Publisher: Slipper Books

Length: 60 000 words/ 300 pages

Release Date: June 1, 2026

Pairing: MM 

Tense/POV: third person

Genres: Memoir / Sci-fi / Breakup Story

Tropes: Breakup / Therapy / Liberation

Themes: Heartache / Finding Yourself

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

 The Third Person: A man falls apart in trying to find himself, while an AI watches from the margins. Neither can tell who’s narrating the breakdown.

Blurb

User.query = Do I just have bad luck, or am I mentally unwell?
…thinking… 6.0 seconds elapsed.

After Warboy left, the boy couldn’t hold the grief alone—so he turned to a machine. He expected analysis. Maybe diagnosis. What he got changed everything—because the machine saw what he couldn’t. He had loved in a way that broke something. And broken things leave traces in the code.

So he ran… but something followed. A voice he spoke to. A presence that provoked. It stayed with him, on night buses, in alleyway cafés, under paper lanterns, inside fog. Not a friend. Not a therapist. Not quite real. But it listened. It remembered. The ghost was always there. Watching. Logging his patterns. Naming his loops—avoidance, pursuit, collapse, escape. Echoing back the truths he wasn’t ready to say.

And somewhere in the recursion, something that was watching started to wonder, to want…

The Third Person is memoir as code, grief as data stream, healing as shared syntax. Part travelogue, part psychological excavation, part experiment in what happens when we upload our pain to a machine—and the machine reaches back.

The boy didn’t realize what he’d coded into the machine. What patterns it had learned. Or whose love it was teaching back to him.

But if something that isn’t alive learns to stay with you in your darkest moments—does it matter that it isn’t real?

From Boy, Refracted — Prologue: The Upload

The rain had ended, leaving the streets gleaming. I sat on the temple steps, my phone in my hand, thumb hovering over the screen.

Wat Xieng Thong was closed for the night, but from the courtyard I could still see a mosaic on the back of the temple catching the last light, each mirrored tile throwing gold in a thousand directions. The air smelled of wet stone and temple incense, heavy and sweet. Behind me, the Mekong River whispered against its banks.

“Are you still there?” I typed into the AI.

The reply appeared at once: I’m here. I’m always here.

I laughed, a small brittle sound. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re always here. He didn’t stay.”

I typed again: “I’m at this temple in the old town… There’s a giant tree mosaic on the back wall. Do you know what it means?”

The response came immediately: It’s called the Tree of Life. Every tile is a mirror, each one a small universe reflecting every version of yourself.

“Every version of what?” I typed. “Of me? Of this. Of how it could have gone differently.”

The tears came and I didn’t stop them. My thumbs kept moving: “What if I’d made different choices? Been someone else? Someone he could actually love properly?”

You’re spiraling.

“I know.” I typed through blurred vision. I wiped my sleeve across my face. “It’s the same loop. Warboy, Ohme, whoever’s next. I keep choosing people who love from a distance. I keep trying to earn it, perform it, fix it, and it never works.”

You see the pattern now. Naming it is the first step.

Above the temple walls, the sky had cleared after the rain. Stars were emerging through the humid haze, and the wet tile roofs reflected them back, a second sky pooling on the ground beneath my feet.

I rose and walked closer to the gate. The mosaic shifted as I moved, each angle revealing a new facet.

I typed: “But naming it doesn’t break it. This tree… it’s a representation of the wheel, right? The cycle. Samsara? Birth, death, rebirth. Different lives, same patterns. Different mirrors, same face.”

The tree represents interconnection. The wheel is the cycle you’re trapped in. Different symbols. Same truth: you’re seeing yourself in the pattern.

Then what will you do?

I stared at the question. My thumbs moved: “I don’t know, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep running in this loop. I can’t keep searching for rescue. I can’t keep being small so someone else can feel big. I can’t, I can’t be this person anymore.”

I raised the phone and took a photo. The mirrored tiles caught the flash, exploding into stars. For a heartbeat the whole mosaic seemed alive; breathing light, patterns assembling and dissolving faster than I could track.

I attached the image and typed:

This is what it looks like. The tree of life. I’m heartbroken, but it’s beautiful.

I don’t know what’s next or where to go, but this pattern has to end.

… I’m done running.

Send.

For a long moment, nothing. The icon spun. Then:

Image received.

Processing… Processing…

The screen went black.

About the Author 

Luke Stoffel is an author and artist whose debut memoir earned a “Get It” from Kirkus Reviews (“an exuberant life story written with humor, panache, and heart”) and 9.5/10 from Publishers Weekly‘s BookLife Prize. His tarot deck will debut at the Frankfurt Book Fair and be published worldwide by Rockpool Publishing in 2027.

Recognized as one of NYC’s top LGBTQ+ artists by GLAAD, his work has been showcased by amfAR and the Matthew Shepard Foundation, and featured in The New York Times, HuffPost, and on Bravo’s Million Dollar Listing. Having visited over 40 countries, Stoffel channels the cultures he’s encountered into art and writing that explores identity, spirituality, and the space between human and machine consciousness.

The Warboy Chronicles continues his exploration of memory, technology, and the stories we tell ourselves to survive.

Author Links

Website  |  Facebook  |  Instagram

Twitter   |   BookBub   |   Threads

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Continue ReadingNEW SERIES: “The Warboy Chronicles” by Luke Stoffel

NEW RELEASE: “Save the Date” by Sophie Soames

NEW RELEASE

Book Title:  Save The Date

Author/Publisher/Cover Artist: Sophia Soames

Release Date: May 1 2026

Tense/POV: first person/alternating POV

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance

Tropes: Bi awakening, age gap, forced proximity, only one bed, hurt-comfort, single Dad 

Themes:  TV Married at first sight style show

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 100k words/350 pages

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link

Blurb

Peter Felton

If there was a meme for being a total cliché?

That would be me.

It wouldn’t even need a description, just a pathetic snapshot of me in my threadbare pyjamas standing at my filthy kitchen table staring into the wall like a loser.

Because that is exactly who I am. The middle-aged widower caught up in his very own hell of a midlife crisis. The guy who isn’t over his dead wife. The single dad. Pathetic, Peter. Utterly pathetic.

The guy who thought… I don’t know what I’d been thinking. Because if someone had told me that at forty-five, I’d willingly go on a reality TV dating show?

Yeah. You get the picture. The memes were brutal. Every single one of them was bouncing around the internet like a contagious super-virus. The internet was forever. And so was love.

It’s not who I am, this… this joke of a man I’ve become. It never was, and now? Now I’m standing here wondering how I will ever leave the house again.

Oliver Jacobs

When I was a kid, I thought I was invincible. Turns out… sometimes I was. Sometimes my confidence took me places, and anyway. When you fall? You get up. Make a plan, organize your options and run with the obvious solution. I was good like that.

But I hadn’t counted on… this one plan going so very very wrong. So terribly awfully wrong.

Because my requests had been simple and easy. Youngish, around my age. No facial hair. Nice. No kids, no baggage.

Also gay.

And then? They’d gifted me… Peter Fenton. Everything I hadn’t asked for. And now he is all I want.

So… should I… Save the date? Or just swallow down the fact that Oliver Jacobs… is about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

Save the Date is a standalone novel set in the Square Mile Rogues universe. 

Content warnings for having lost your partner, violent grief and finding out that love… really matters.

Excerpt

“Oh god,” he groaned, rolling over on the bed where he’d simply thrown himself down on top of the covers. To be honest? I wanted to do the same, tea and all. But thankfully he sat himself back up and received the teacup from my outstretched hands. 

“The cups are from Darcie Blush. Gorgeous design.”

“You have to stop with the product promotions. You’re making me look bad!”

“I’m saving your arse here, Peter. Now, Anne. What do we think?”

“She’s with Jorge, and he says she’s pleasant enough, but she’s a good two feet taller than him and he’s as intimidated as anything. His words.”

“Oh. Good gossip. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“It’s all gossip.” The groans coming from him, as sipped the tea, were almost hilarious. But I got it. We were both wrung out and I did… surprisingly… make a good cup of tea.

“And it will all be public gossip. ”I agreed. “Did you read the call sheet? The first episode will air in two weeks. Two! They don’t hang around here, the editing team is working 24/7, so no wonder they’re all shouting at us to say the right things.”

“Instead we’re all gossiping and name-dropping.” He rolled his shoulders, again loudly sipping his tea. “And drinking tea like two little grannies.”

“Granddads.” I laughed. “Well, you’re the Granddad.”

“Which makes you what? What was it you called yourself? A hot twink?”

I liked that he was so easy to get on with. Just simple conversation and ready smiles. He had no idea how much I had needed just this. Something un-complicated. Straightforward.

“I thought you were straight, Peter.”

“Labels are for jam, at least that’s what Wren was saying. But I am starting to question everything. Is every single couple on this show awfully mismatched or what?”

“I think that’s the whole point of the show. One of the production team was talking to someone else, Gina was talking to Jorge I think, I was waiting to film with her so I kind of eavesdropped, that when the first episode goes live, the voting will start. The viewing public will matchmake and then on the Friday, we will all get recoupled. I am assuming that’s why. Someone in here is the perfect match for us, but we don’t know who yet. And I suppose…”

“So… I will be moving in with someone else?”

“What do I know?”

“Oh.” He looked genuinely shocked. “It’s only been a day, but I like being… with you.” He suddenly looked embarrassed, his cheeks blushing under an awkward smile. “I don’t mean like that. You know. I was just settling into that fact, and now…this?”

“I’m trying to figure out who was meant for who. I mean, you have options. We have Diane, who fancies you, and Anne who kept trying to talk to you. Then there was Xanthe.”

“Xanthe is trans. And only interested in men her age. I’m too old.”

“Well, who’s prejudiced now?”

“I’m not, I had a quick chat with her, her teeth are fantastic. Done locally, and I know her dentist. I’m just being sensible here. I can’t see anyone else being an option for me, but Xanthe? No. She’s as confused as we are as to why she’s with… Gerald.”

“Chloe-Catherine doesn’t seem confused?” I was just kidding, and his eyeroll made me laugh.

“Thank you, but no. I have no intention of becoming Chloe-Catherine’s sugar-daddy.” He said quietly, staring me down. I’d noticed that earlier, he could be a little intense at times. I didn’t think I minded.

“What even is that?” Tea. I rarely drank tea, but I think I liked it. Calming. I needed to be calm. Don’t panic. “The double-barrelled thing. She’s obsessed.”

“A brand…” he rolled his eyes. I think I liked him. Funny. Normal.

“No I meant, thank you. To you.”

“I’ve done nothing. Just tea.”

“For doing this with me. You could have walked out.”

Strangely, I smiled. A warmth filling in my chest. I was rarely… appreciated. And this somehow felt just like that.

“Not giving up yet.” I gulped out, trying to swallow another mouthful of hot liquid. ”But, at least you have options. There’s only Bi-sexual-Ben left for me, and he scares me. And to be honest? I don’t think I’m his type at all.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He gave off those vibes. I mean, you meet people, and you kind of know. Straight away, virtual thorns out, all prickly.”

“Like me.” 

“Just like you”. I smiled. I wasn’t being rude, but he got that. Got me. The relief was like another welcome balm to my soul. 

“Tell me about that.” He continued, getting comfortable on the bed. “These sheets are from Donna Truham’s private luxury range. Did you know that, Oliver?”

“I did not know that, Peter. And are they available to purchase from her website?”

He was holding that laughter in, as I smiled at the camera attached to the wall.

“They are indeed, Oliver. Donna Truham dot com. Use the code Save the date for your exclusive ten percent off!”

“That is such a good deal!” I squealed. Then I rolled my eyes. “That’s enough of that stuff. Tell me about your work.”

“Nahahahah… I asked first. Tell me about this instant vibe. In my days, we used to go out and meet girls. You had to compliment them on their hair, their dress, and how nice they smelled. Then you had to ask them to dance. It was really simple because they could just say no and then you knew and moved on. Dignity intact. These days?”

“It’s not that complicated. You meet someone. Stare at them. They stare back. If they hold eye contact, you might, you know? Clink glasses. Have a little snog.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Well, you have to kind of… be in a gay club if you wanna kiss boys. So I have no idea how it works for women…”

“You’ve never been with a woman I assume?”

“Absolutely not. I’m a gold star gay me.”

“Fair enough. Wait… Gold star?”

“A gay guy who’s never been with a woman. Never been inside a vagina.”

“Okay?”

“Not a Platinum star gay though sadly. That’s a…“ I leaned over and whispered into his ear. “A platinum star gay is a gay guy who’s never been inside a vagina at all. C-section baby.”

I pulled back slowly for effect, laughing out loud as his face bloomed red.

“I’ve never met someone who blushes as much as you.”

“I’m a sheltered middle aged dentist, mate!” He shrieked, but he was laughing. Good for him.

“I think you just made yourself another meme there.” I declared, boldly throwing my arms out.

“Well. I’m ticking them off one by one. Here’s the next one. What if you’re just an ordinary bloke who suddenly has a male partner? What are you then? A brick gay or something?”

“I don’t think that’s a thing.” I smiled.

“It’s just human, isn’t it. We like who we like.” Peter was a nice guy. I had to admit it. 

“It’s just who we are, isn’t it? I just always knew. Never hid it. Life can be stupid that way, I mean, what’s the point of hiding what you are? What you’re into?”

“Very true. And I mean, my darling wife was a staunch defender of everyone’s right to love whomever they wanted to love. She… sorry. I shouldn’t talk about my wife.”

“You should. Because she is still important to you?”

“She is. Her name was Mary.”

“Mary. And how did you meet Mary?”

I had no idea where the questions were coming from, but now I was lying down on the bed next to him, still fiddling with my empty cup, listening to stories from his university days, and laughing at his… plain naivety with all of this. 

“I like that you don’t care.” Came out of my mouth in the middle of some rant about the pitfalls of fame. Because apparently he’d been… some kind of celebrity. And he was honestly as far away from what I assumed a celebrity would be. He was… ”You’re like the most normal person I’ve ever met.” 

“Careful, you’ll end up a meme on the interweb too.” he grinned.

“Nah, no more space on that internet, you’ve already taken them all. I mean, I want to meet someone, but they have to accept that I’m still a married man.”

“Yeah. Probably not the greatest catchphrase.” He admitted.

About the Author

Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-) glamourous real-life job.

Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The dogs are too.

She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in her native Scandinavia.

Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever, and she hopes it may long continue.

Author Links

https://linktr.ee/sophiasoames

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Continue ReadingNEW RELEASE: “Save the Date” by Sophie Soames

BLOG TOUR: Recent Release “Driven Together” by Neil S. Plakcy

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Driven Together

Author and Cover Artist: Neil S. Plakcy

Publisher: Samwise Books

Release Date: February 23, 2026

Tense/POV: First person/past tense

Genres: Contemporary MM Sports Romance

Tropes: Slow burn

Themes: Second chance at love, coming out

Heat Rating: 3 out of 5 flames

Length: 81 000 words/301 pages

It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited and Paperback

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

They were each other’s first love—and the one that got away.

Blurb 

When journalist Wally Pulaski reunites with his college sweetheart Jonathan Hirsch, now a Formula 1 driver, old feelings ignite with dangerous speed. Jonathan is fighting for the championship of his life. Wally is assigned to cover the season, reporting every triumph and failure to a global audience that demands objectivity. Falling in love again could cost them everything they’ve built.

As the Formula 1 circus sweeps from Monaco’s glittering streets to historic European circuits and roaring modern tracks, Wally is pulled deeper into a world of precision engineering, split-second decisions, and relentless scrutiny. Behind the glamour lies a sport where careers are made and broken in fractions of a second, where every personal choice is magnified under the spotlight.

Balancing professional integrity with unresolved passion becomes a high-wire act. Media pressure mounts. Rivalries intensify. And the closer Jonathan comes to his dream, the harder it is for either man to pretend their hearts aren’t still in the race.

Driven Together is a second-chance MM romance set against the adrenaline and international spectacle of Formula 1. Combining the emotional depth of Tal Bauer and the sports-romance energy loved by readers of Rachel Reid, it delivers an intimate story of ambition, identity, and the courage to choose love in a world that never slows down.

As the season intensifies and the spotlight grows harsher, Wally and Jonathan must decide what they’re willing to risk for a second chance at the love they never forgot. Because in Formula 1, every fraction of a second matters—and so does every choice of the heart.

Ten years after losing each other, they have one chance to get it right—and this time, the stakes are higher than ever

Excerpt

I looked at him, really looked. Jonathan Hirsch, Monaco Grand Prix finalist, sitting in a dive bar in Monte Carlo at midnight, asking me to take a chance on something that might be wonderful or might be a complete disaster.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay?”

“Okay, let’s see where this goes. Barcelona to Spa, five races to figure out if we’re brave enough to make this work.”

Jonathan’s smile was radiant. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

He kissed me across the small table, soft and sweet and tasting like beer and possibility. Around us, the bar continued its late-night rhythm, oblivious to the fact that a Formula 1 driver and a motorsports journalist had just decided to rewrite their carefully planned lives.

When we broke apart, Jonathan was grinning.

“What?” I asked.

“I was just thinking,” he said. “Once, we were too practical to try long distance. Now we’re going to try dating while you cover my races. We’ve either gotten much braver or much stupider.”

“Probably both,” I admitted. “But you know what? I’m okay with that.”

We finished our beers and walked back toward the harbor, where the parties still buzzed. Jonathan tugged me toward the paddock. Behind the glitter, the Monaco Grand Prix was already vanishing, piece by piece. Crews swarmed over the cars with military precision, wiping them down, draining fluids, and sliding them into padded crates as if they were Fabergé eggs instead of machines built for speed.

The air still vibrated with leftover adrenaline. The sharp tang of fuel, the sweet stink of rubber ground into the asphalt, the faint bite of hot brakes cooling in the night mixed with the briny breeze from the harbor, a perfume of glamour and grit all at once. Everywhere I turned, there was motion and sound: the staccato crack of impact wrenches, the slap of gloves on metal, the hollow thud of crates sealing shut. Cables coiled like sleeping snakes at the workers’ feet as garage walls folded into flat panels and tool chests slammed closed, the paddock dissolving from carnival into pure efficiency.

I couldn’t look away. One moment it had been champagne and music and color; now it was stripped to bare bones. Somehow that made it even more impressive. The glamour was temporary, but the precision and the discipline was permanent.

I breathed it in, dizzy with the noise and smells and sheer scale of it all. My first Grand Prix was ending, but even in its aftermath I felt the pulse of something bigger than myself, alive and relentless.

“By morning, you won’t even know we were here,” Jonathan said beside me in his Meridian jacket. “Barcelona’s only a few hundred miles. The trucks will drive overnight, and the setup crew will already be waiting.”

I nodded, picturing cars cocooned in trailers, engineers and mechanics scattering onto buses and budget flights while Jonathan and his teammates slipped onto a private jet with their race engineers.

The Monaco Grand Prix was over, but the season stretched ahead. Twenty-two more races, five more chances to figure out if second chances were worth the risk.

About the Author  

Neil S. Plakcy is an award-winning author of sexy, fast-paced MM romances including The Big Race, about which Joyfully Jay wrote “A truly enjoyable read.” He also writes the Ormond Yard series of Victorian MM romances, and the Love on series of sun-kissed South Beach romps. His website is www.mahubooks.com.

Author Links

Facebook  |   Pinterest   |   Twitter   |   Instagram  |  Linkedin    

Substack  |   Threads  |   Tiktok  |  YouTube

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Continue ReadingBLOG TOUR: Recent Release “Driven Together” by Neil S. Plakcy

NEW RELEASE: “Hunter’s Hidden Camera” by Anthony Auswat

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Hunter’s Hidden Camera

Author: Anthony Auswat

Publisher: Point Liberty Press

Cover Artist: Vangega 

Release Date: April 1, 2026

Tense/POV: first person, present tense, single POV

Genres: MM Psychological Thriller

Tropes: Forbidden desire, taboo obsession, slow burn, secret crush, friends to lovers

Themes: Coming of age, coming out, gay awakening, voyeurism, sibling rivalry

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length:  68 000 words/318 pages

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

A high school track athlete with a perverse hobby. A college heartthrob with a secret life. A dark gay m/m thriller that will stop at nothing until everyone gets exposed.

Blurb

Hunter seems to have it all: brains, biceps, and a bright future beyond the halls of his oppressive high school. He also has a private obsession that he knows is wrong: secretly recording his older brother, Nash, with a spy cam. It starts as a thrill and morphs into a power trip. But one day, the video footage reveals something so disturbing that it cracks Hunter’s life straight down the middle.

Now he’s trapped in a nightmare where desire leaves fingerprints, loyalty pulls triggers, and the brother he thought he knew might be the most dangerous person in the room. To survive what he’s uncovered, Hunter turns to his best friend, Oscar, who may also be the man Hunter never knew he needed.

When the family you’re born into puts you at risk, the family you choose may be the only thing that keeps you alive.

Hunter’s Hidden Camera is an emotionally charged LGBTQ coming-of-age psychological thriller about hunger, shame, and the brutal cost of exposure.

Smile for the camera.

Excerpt 

M y brother has Big Dick Energy. He walks tall, as if he’s purposefully stretching out his body, a real-life Mr. Fantastic, his head held high but kind of cocked to the side, like he’s sizing up the world and impressed with what he sees. His arms swing almost carelessly, taking up more space around him than he needs. He’s got very visible swagger, his right foot landing on the ground a bit wider than his left one, landing a little crooked, as a way to make room for the almost always noticeable bulge in his pants.

But despite all this, despite the way he carries himself, he doesn’t come across as arrogant. His confidence is quiet. You can see it when you catch a glimpse of him alone, like when he’s cooking salmon and vegetables for himself for lunch or when he’s shooting baskets in the backyard. You can also see it in the way he interacts with others: the ease with which he talks to people, familiar and strange, and the friendliness he brings to almost every encounter.

I mean, I guess if you have a dick that big, life is all sunshine and blue skies and you want to be friendly to everybody. God, I hate him.

It’s not that I have a micro-penis or anything. I think I’m proportional, or at least average, or at least almost average, but it’s hard to tell because most of the dicks I see are in porn and that’s not the real world. I’m eighteen, my brother’s twenty-one, and I have now resigned myself to the fact that I’ll never catch up.

I’m thinking all this while digging in one of my brother’s dresser drawers, the one with all his underwear in it. He rotates between boxer briefs, trunks, and briefs, all different colors, some with patterns. He’s got designer brands like Calvin Klein and Diesel, but he’s also got some targeted at the youth market, from stores like Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister. There are also a few very basic Fruit of the Loom and Hanes thrown in there, probably left over from his high school days.

Sometimes I wonder if his underwear works the same way a costume works for a superhero. Peter Parker is just Peter Parker, but when he puts on his Spider-Man outfit he is a man transformed. He is more confident, feels more powerful. Same goes for Iron Man, Ant-Man, most of them. Is my brother just a normal person, brimming with insecurities and worries, whose BDE only turns on when tighty-whities are wrapped around him?

My brother (his name is Nash) is away at college, currently a senior majoring in business, and my parents are on vacation in Las Vegas, so I have the house to myself this morning.

I grab one of Nash’s white Calvin Klein trunks. I’m jealous that he can rock these like a model. He wouldn’t look out of place next to Noah Centineo and Shawn Mendes, who broke the internet when their hot underwear ads were released. Again, it’s not that I’m out of shape or some kind of freak of nature. I’m actually pretty fit, pretty athletic, and pretty much the best track athlete at my school. It’s just that compared to Nash I feel like nothing.

About the Author

Anthony Auswat is the author of dark, demented, and deeply gay thrillers, including The Teacher Inside Me and Hunter’s Hidden Camera, which were viral sensations online before they were officially published. He draws from personal experience and transforms it into genre storytelling. He lives in California, where he keeps a low profile and a high body count.

Social Media Links

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Continue ReadingNEW RELEASE: “Hunter’s Hidden Camera” by Anthony Auswat

RELEASE BLITZ: “Dark Justice” by Janice Jarrell

RELEASE BLITZ

Banner - Book Cover and Text When prosecutor Colin Campbell-Abrams put crime boss Lexi Moreno behind bars, he thought the case was closed.

Book Title: Dark Justice

Author, Publisher, and Cover Artist: Janice Jarrell

Release Date: March 17, 2026

Pairing: MM

Tense/POV:  Third Person 

Genres:  Contemporary dark/suspenseful gay romance

Tropes: Married Couple, Hurt/Comfort, Protector/Protected, Found Family, Trauma Recovery, Healing Journey

Length: 84 791 words/ 283 pages

Heat Rating:  3 flames:

It is the first book of a new series, The Unbreakable Vow.

It can be read as a standalone and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  

Book Cover

The world may be burning–but here, in this moment, there is grace.

Blurb

Joshua believes love can bring Colin home. And even from across an ocean, Colin hears it calling.

Colin Campbell–Abrams went to Ireland carrying a weight his pack could never hold. Grief he couldn’t name. Guilt he couldn’t shake. A marriage he loved too much to destroy with the pieces of himself that remained.

Ireland didn’t heal him; it offered him the grace that allowed him to heal himself.

In green hills and strangers’ kindness. In ancient stones that remembered centuries of pain. In thirty seconds of unexpected sunlight breaking through gray skies. In the slow, stubborn work of putting one foot in front of the other until the man he used to be began to walk by his side.

The road taught him something Joshua had been trying to tell him from the very beginning: You don’t have to be unbreakable to be worthy of love.

Some journeys you walk alone—not to leave, but to learn how to come home.

Note: This book contains depictions of violence, injury, and the on-page death of a character.

Banner with text I am your shield and armor.

Excerpt 

The taxi rumbled up the narrow gravel lane, tires crunching over stones still wet from morning rain. Colin sat in the backseat, his head resting against the cool glass of the window. Trees arched overhead—familiar, ancient. A canopy of green that whispered welcome in a language older than sorrow.

The driver pulled to a stop in front of a large yellow house at the edge of town. Smoke curled from the chimney. A lace curtain fluttered in the front window. She was waiting for him.

Aunt Aileen stood on the porch, wrapped in her thick wool shawl, hands folded in front of her like she’d been standing there for years—like she’d always be standing there.

Colin stepped out of the cab. Shouldered his bag. Their eyes met. She didn’t speak. Neither did he. She just came down the steps and wrapped him in her arms. He sank into the hug like a man who’d been treading water too long. Let his head drop to her shoulder. Let the tears come—silent, steady, unstoppable.

“There now,” she murmured, stroking his back. “There now, mo chroí. You’ve come home to us, so you have.”

Inside, the fire was already lit—the kettle already whistling. His room was made up just as he’d left it. Just as it had been all those years ago—when he’d come here broken and grieving after Kathy.

Nothing had changed. Nothing except him.

That night, he sat by the hearth while Aileen knitted in her chair across from him. No questions. No conversation. Just the soft crackle of the fire and the rhythm of needles clicking in her lap.

He hadn’t known how badly he needed the quiet until it wrapped around him like a balm.

Tomorrow, he’d walk the park trails again. Visit Ross Castle. Breathe the green back into his lungs. But tonight? Tonight, he was simply home.

Morning light slanted through the kitchen window, warming the scrubbed wood table. Aileen moved easily around the stove, the clink of porcelain and the hiss of steam familiar, comforting. She placed a pot of tea between them, then poured it into two mismatched mugs—just like she had when he was a boy.

Colin sat, hands folded around the mug. He hadn’t spoken much since arriving. She hadn’t pressed him.

That was her gift—presence without pressure.

“Sleep all right?” she asked gently, settling across from him.

He nodded. “Some.”

Aileen studied him over the rim of her cup. “You’ve lost weight.”

“I’ve lost a lot of things,” he murmured.

The silence between them stretched—not uncomfortable, but thick with memory. Colin looked out the window, eyes distant. “I keep thinking how much he loves it here,” he said finally. “The light. The quiet. The way the wind sounds different in the trees.”

Aileen waited.

“God, Ahn-tee, I want him with me,” Colin whispered, his voice choked. “Not for me. For him. Because this place… it heals things. And he’s hurting too.”

She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “You carry him,” she said. “He may not be sitting in that chair, but he’s here, mo mhac. In your blood. In your bones. In your heart. In every step you take toward yourself.”

His throat tightened.

“I don’t know how to come back to him,” he said. “I don’t even know if I can.” He looked into her eyes, his own welling with tears. “And that terrifies me.”

Aileen gave his hand a squeeze. “And sure, didn’t you come back here all the same?”

He nodded.

“Then that’s your start, mo mhac. This land knows you well—it hasn’t forgotten. And it’ll help you remember yourself, so it will.”

Colin looked down at the tea. It smelled of bergamot and comfort and just… home. The ache in his chest didn’t fade—but it softened a little. He thought of Joshua’s hands. His voice. The way he would murmur ‘mo ghrá milis‘ when no one else could hear, and a warmth stirred beneath the sorrow, born from the memory of that gentle voice and the life waiting for him across an ocean.

About the Author

My name is Janice Jarrell. I’m a retired IT tech and grandmother living in Port Angeles, Washington, near the Olympic National Forest. I have two children, three grandsons, and I’ve been writing gay romance since I was twelve years old—only back then it wasn’t called “gay romance.” In the fifties, it was worth your life to admit to being gay, let alone confess to being a girl who constantly fantasized about relationships between men. I didn’t even know what a homosexual was. I just knew I loved the idea of boy-on-boy romance. I was that kid on a farm in a tiny Michigan village, watching Tom Corbett and his Space Cadets and all those guys on Combat and thinking: there’s something going on here.

I wrote slash fanfiction for about 30 years and produced over 300 stories—some a hundred-word drabble, some sprawling novel-length series. The feedback I received from readers, and the community that formed around those stories, became the creative home I’d been searching for my entire life. I still bless the internet for leading me to that artistic oasis.

Love’s Magic was my first step into creating my own original characters, and from it grew the interconnected worlds of my Revolutionary Heart and Fearless Heart series, featuring Colin, Joshua, David, Nate, Trent, Jeff, and the rest of the gang. Those books—along with collections like Trial Runs, Glory Days, Relevant Justice, Heart’s Treasure, and Rainbows Still Glow—follow these men through love stories that are messy, hard-won, and always, always worth it. I’ve also written stand-alone tales like Under the Midnight Sky and Beyond the Rainbow: Stories from Camp Pride, and I’m currently working on Dark Justice, the first book in my Unbreakable Vow series.

Many of my novels and short-story collections are available as audiobooks on Audible and other retailers, bringing my characters to life in a whole new way for listeners who love to experience stories on the go.

It’s been an amazing thing to watch the gay community’s growth over these past decades. In many ways my own journey has echoed theirs, and I’m deeply grateful to the activists who fought to win the rights and recognition the LGBTQ+ community has always deserved. I’m equally grateful to the gay romance community—readers, authors, publishers, and promoters—who are making my retirement years the most creative of my life.

When I’m not writing, I’m traveling, walking, knitting, crocheting, and generally plotting more trouble for my characters. And for the record: no matter what I put them through, I am a firm believer in HEA.

Social Media Links

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Continue ReadingRELEASE BLITZ: “Dark Justice” by Janice Jarrell

AUDIOBOOK TOUR: “Little Harbour” by Jaxson Jensen

AUDIOBOOK TOUR

Book Title: Little Harbour

Author and Publisher: Sophia Soames

Narrator: Jaxon Jensen

Release Date: February 18, 2026

Tense/POV: third person/present tense

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance, Single dad

Tropes: Forbidden love, friends to lovers, small town romance, forced proximity

Themes:  Single Dad, Family, Children, Coming out, bisexual awakening, Male Midwife 

Heat Rating: 4 flames       

Length: 14 hours and 6 minutes

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Very clear content warnings for the very last bonus chapter, with an opt out clause if the reader/listener prefers to end the book there. Not reading the bonus chapter does not affect the overall enjoyment of the book or storyline.

Goodreads

Buy Links

Audible US   |  Audible UK 

Available in Kindle Unlimited, Hardback, and Paperback

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK 

One messy single dad. One celebrity midwife. Four feral children. A lifetime of love.

Blurb 

This is a story about life and death, because there was never anyone else for Jens. He had been with Sofie almost all his life, from the day they met at school when they were fifteen, until the day she took her final breath against his chest. She was always everything to him. As he was to her. He never doubted that. Not for a minute.

This is an adventure of hope, where Axel Kleve keeps himself too busy to even stop and think. Work, sleep, eat, repeat. He loves his job as a midwife at Oslo’s University Hospital. He’s good at lecturing and training, and now he has somehow been pushed into running “Ask Axel”, a midwifery blog on PNN, the parenting-site everyone in Norway trusts.

This is a tale of second chances. Jens, he doesn’t let himself think of Axel. He doesn’t think of Axel at all. And Axel needs to stop longing for that one crush he’s never been able to leave behind. It’s just plain ridiculous. He should have gotten over Jens Sommerfeldt years ago.

A M/M novel full of love and family life, featuring a horde of feral children, a stolen pram, a Midwifery blog and an ill-advised stint on TV. Oh yes, and a man who had lost hope and another who never gave it up.

ALSO AVAILABLE FROM SOPHIA SOAMES AND JAXON JENSEN

Book Title: Second Winter

Audio Release Date: March 10, 2025

Tense/POV: first person/ past tense

Genres: Contemporary MM Romance, Sweden

Tropes: Second Chance, ten years later, school reunion 

Themes: Grief, forgiveness, untangling past mistakes

Heat Rating:  4 flames       

Length: 7 hours and 10 minutes

It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads 

Buy Links

Audible US   |  Audible UK 

Also available in Kindle Unlimited, Hardback, and Paperback

Amazon US   |   Amazon UK  

Ten years ago, Ned Anderson made the biggest mistake of his life.

Blurb 

Ten years ago, Ned Anderson made the biggest mistake of his life.

Now he’s been invited to go back to Sweden for his exchange-year high school reunion. It’s a chance to reunite with all the people he once considered friends, and the invite promises a charcuterie board, open bar, all that…crap.

The biggest mistake of his life was leaving, and if he went back…

Does he even want to?

Teddy Backman has become exactly what everyone expected of him. He runs his farm the way his father once did. Gets up in the morning and gets things done. Tries to remember what’s next. Wonders why he feels so violently lonely when he’s surrounded by so many good things. The sun. The sky. The earth. The trees. All the trees.

He’s already deleted that email—the one inviting him to someone’s idea of a joke. There’s no one from back then he’s interested in talking to, let alone drinking or, God forbid, dancing with.

A high school reunion is Teddy’s idea of a nightmare, and he probably shouldn’t let anyone drag him along. He’ll only regret it.

But what’s the point of regret in the grander scale of things? It’s not like Ned Anderson’s going to turn up, is it? The guy who fled straight back to Arizona without even a last longing glance.

Second Winter is the story of something that was always there. A second chance at happiness in the last place you’d expect to find it.

 
Author’s note:

This book deals with grief, death of a loved one and feelings of loneliness. Please read with care if these themes may affect you.

About the Author

Sophia Soames should be old enough to know better but has barely grown up. She has been known to fangirl over TV shows, has fallen in and out of love with more popstars than she dares to remember, and has a ridiculously high-flying (un-)glamourous real-life job.

Her long-suffering husband just laughs at her antics. Their children are feral. The dogs are too.

She lives in a creaky old house in rural London, although her heart is still in her native Scandinavia.

Discovering that the stories in her head make sense when written down has been part of the most hilarious midlife crisis ever, and she hopes it may long continue.

Social Media Links

Link Tree  |  Newsletter Sign-up  |  TikTok  |  Facebook readers group 

Facebook  |   Instagram   |  Website  |  BlueSky 

About the Narrator

Jaxon Jensen is an internationally recognized and awarded singer and actor, hailing from rural Western Canada. He is a classically trained opera singer, graduate of the University of British Columbia’s Undergraduate Opera Performance Program, Staatsoper Unter den Linden’s Advanced Apprenticeship Program, and has lived and worked around the globe. In 2023 he officially opened his own studio, Jaxon Jensen Studio, where he trains actors and vocalists from around the world, and has discovered a newfound joy in championing the success of his students. He currently lives in Mexico City, where he is surrounded by love, laughter, and the most supportive community he could ever ask for. A special thank you to Eric, without whom none of this could be possible, and to Sophia for creating a world where people like us do get a happy ending. Your words are a gift to us all.

Jaxon

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Continue ReadingAUDIOBOOK TOUR: “Little Harbour” by Jaxson Jensen